


True And Deep As The Sea

by pirateygoodness



Series: this road was meant for two [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 17:16:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2237100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateygoodness/pseuds/pirateygoodness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After defeating Garrett, Skye and Simmons rebuild.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank yous to thrace and beerbad for AMAZING beta reading support.

The first few days, after everything - after Ward, Garrett, meeting totally-not-dead Director Fury - none of them really know what to do. All of them are tense, still half-expecting another crisis. 

Coulson and May spend the whole first day reaching out to people they used to know from SHIELD; soon after that Coulson disappears to fly out and visit No-Longer-Agent-Except-When-She-Is Hill. Simmons spends her time fretting, trying not to hover over the medical team caring for Fitz while absolutely, definitely hovering. Skye does her best to get rid of Ward. 

Not that he's around, obviously. As far as she knows - and now that she has permission to access whatever secure computer network she wants, Skye _knows_ \- he's locked away in a secure facility guarded by the US military. Everything else, she hasn't had time to hack into, but she can only hope he's being interrogated very, very enthusiastically. Despite all that, he's in her head, under her skin, and she hates it. She does her very best to leave him behind. She gets up early, goes down to the gym first thing in the morning and again in the afternoon and works out until she's exhausted. But every time, his voice is there like an echo. _A good agent is ready for anything. That's why we get up early, every day. You need to stay sharp._ She starts at the bag, warming up, and then he's there, too. _Skye, get it together. You punch like a baby kitten._ His sigh, the grumpy one that always reminded her of someone's dad. _Again. Like you mean it._

She grits her teeth and hits harder. 

 

+

 

After a little while, they all start to settle. They make it to three days out, and nobody's died. Nobody's betrayed them, or staged a frontal assault on the Playground, or hijacked the Bus or turned into a supersoldier or anything else they weren't expecting. They've all just kept existing, fragile, together. 

Slowly, they start to find their own rhythms. A new normal, whatever that means these days. 

Skye starts setting her alarm in time to catch May. They're working on different things, training different skillsets, but something about having May around keeps Ward's voice quiet. She starts asking questions, getting May to teach her things they both know Skye's done a hundred times before. Skye is pretty sure May understands, though. She barely even rolls her eyes when Skye asks her to review weapons stances, basic combat drills. 

If she does it enough, she's pretty sure that eventually she'll start to hear May's voice, instead. Gentle and even, as she moves through punches and kicks that are slowly starting to feel familiar. _Now do it again. Lead with your arm, not your shoulder._

 

Jemma, for her part, settles back into her research. It takes Skye a little while to realize how much she's settled in - as in, the whole team has hardly seen her since they day they arrived and Fury's medical team brought Fitz. 

It doesn't take Skye long after that to go looking. 

She finds Jemma in her lab - the one on the Bus, the one she shared - _shares_ \- with Fitz. She's a familiar sight - hair pulled back, microscope and a rack full of test tubes to her left, holotable projecting an incomprehensible mess of different molecules on her right. She's slowly moving from one to the other, brow furrowed. Occasionally, she'll pause to write something down.

But things aren't right. 

For one thing, the lab is quiet. There's no sound of Jemma muttering to herself, no back-and-forth between her and Fitz. There's no chaos - at least, not the good kind. There's broken glass and scorch-marks, and the one remaining lab door is still bullet-scarred. But there's no stash of Fitz's candy sitting out for Skye to snack on, no bench full of half-finished prototypes and the dog-eared copy of _Fellowship of the Ring_ Fitz rereads whenever he has downtime. 

It's a lot bigger than Skye remembers it being in here. A lot emptier, too. 

For another, Jemma looks exhausted. Her eyes are bloodshot, rimmed red, and she's wearing the same clothes she had on the day they arrived. Her hair is pulled into its usual ponytail but it's messy, stray hairs falling loose in a decidedly uncontrolled, un- _Simmons_ sort of way. She keeps frowning, gesturing across the tablet she uses as a lab book with frustrated movements. Skye's fingers twitch. She knows some of what happened to Jemma, but not the details, and she didn't realize that things were this bad. Now that she's here, she can hardly stand to see Jemma like this. There's a part of her that wants to pull her into a hug and just hold on as tightly as she can. 

Skye keeps still, says, "Hey." 

Jemma jumps, startled - and it's too much, she's too jumpy for three days of quiet. There's a word for that. Skye tries not to think it. "Oh," Jemma huffs, trying to laugh. "Skye. Hello."

There's so much Skye wants to say - _they told me you were dead, I'm so glad you're not, how can I make this better_ \- she's hardly sure how to start. She tries for something easy, casual. "Haven't seen you for a while. What have you been up to?"

Jemma shrugs, brushes a few stray hairs away from her face. "Nothing too exciting. Just trying to figure out these tissue samples we collected from Agent Garrett."

"Oh?" Skye says. 

She's waiting for the rush of jargon she knows is coming, a flurry of what Jemma's thinking and how biochemistry this and morbid trivia that. But all she gets back is a drawn look on Jemma's face, a forced smile and a sadness behind Jemma's eyes that Skye can hardly stand. "It's important to keep busy," is what Jemma says, voice tight. 

"Right." 

It's quiet for a long while. Jemma turns back to the holotable, flicking one particular molecule this way and that, turning it over. It's so surreal, watching her do this without Fitz. Skye keeps expecting him to speak up, to come back from the supply room around the corner and say something. She can almost hear him. 

_Wait, Jem, what if we just -_

_If you'd listened to me the first time, you'd remember that obviously -_

And then Jemma would answer back, talking over him with a roll of her eyes like a grown up Hermione, and everything would be alright. Skye catches herself fidgeting, stops. "Do you need any help with anything?" 

"No, no I'm alright. Thank you."

There's a long, heavy silence. All Skye wants right now is to know what to say to fix this - to fix _Jemma_ , but she's coming up empty. She reaches out and touches Jemma's hand, brushes her thumb across the back of Jemma's knuckles. Her skin is dry, the way it sometimes gets when she's been in the lab too long. "Okay," Skye says. "Just - let me know if you do."

"Thank you," Jemma says again, tries another smile. This time, it reaches her eyes a little.

 

+

 

Skye has this whole plan, where she's going to give Jemma her space and let her throw herself into her work and ask for help when she feels like she's ready. It sounds fantastic in her head, and she really does think about sticking to it for almost an entire day before she caves, and goes back. Just to make sure she's alright. She knows she can't fix this, not really, but there's no harm in trying to make things a little less terrible. 

This time, Jemma is asleep. The holotable is still on, the light on the microscope isn't. Jemma is slumped next to it on the lab bench, head in her hands, snoring gently. Skye wonders if she's slept at all since they arrived here. 

She looks over Jemma's shoulder at the lab notes open on her tablet, still lit. She can't have been sleeping for long. Skye doesn't understand most of it, but her eye settles on a few key words. _Extremis, Cybertek,_ and her very favourite, _GH-325._

She goes to the supply closet behind the lab and gets a blanket. It takes her a little while. The closet is all messed up, like someone went through and pulled things off shelves at random. For a minute she wonders who left it that way, thinks about getting them to help clean it up, before she remembers. All of those men, taking over their Bus, living on it like they had the right to. She grits her teeth and digs through until she finds a blanket. She leaves the rest messy.

Jemma's still sleeping when she gets back. There are these loose strands of hair falling from her ponytail across her eyes, half-obscuring them in this adorable, gently-tousled way. The sight of her makes something warm bloom in Skye's chest. For a moment, she considers reaching out to brush those stray hairs back behind Jemma's ear. 

She shakes her head, clearing it, and settles for arranging the blanket across Jemma's shoulders. 

She does a quick pass of the workspace, making sure that everything's in order. The microscope light is already off, and she flicks the power button on the holotable screen as well - the one button she's allowed to touch. She looks around for anything dangerous-looking that might spill or fall down. Skye's science knowledge is still limited enough that she's not sure she could tell the dangerous chemicals from the safe ones, but she figures anything in a test tube should probably stay there. 

Jemma sighs, eyes flicking back and forth beneath closed lids, and cuddles into the blanket. Skye wants, suddenly, to stay and make sure that she sleeps alright. 

But she's got her own things to work on, back with Billy in the comms room. Jemma will sleep fine without her, she's sure. 

 

+

 

After that, Skye starts working out routes that bring her past the hangar. 

Her bunk is literally across the hall from the dining room, but suddenly a trip there turns into a tour of the Playground, five right turns and a left out of her way so that she gets to wander past the lab. Jemma's always there. Usually, Skye just looks. Not to stare, or anything creepy like that. Just, to make sure she's okay. Because there's this part of her that can't forget about the haunted look behind Jemma's eyes, the way she jumped when Skye startled her. That part just wants to know that she's at least still there, still working. Just in case.

She knows she's supposed to give Jemma her space. She can almost hear the advice May would give her (if they ever talked about this kind of thing, but the nice thing about May is that they don't), stern and not wrong. _Give her time, Skye. Sometimes that's what people need most._

Time and space are great, but she's pretty sure that Jemma hasn't eaten in like, days, and she won't leave the lab, and it's freaking Skye the hell out. 

 

She lets her feet drag on the cargo ramp as she walks over to the lab, and makes a point of knocking. This time, Jemma doesn't startle quite so much when she opens with a quiet, "Hey,"

"Skye," Jemma says. She's wearing gloves and safety goggles, clearly in the middle of something super dangerous. Her hair is a complete mess, mostly falling out of her ponytail, and those dark circles under her eyes are just a little more prominent. She reaches up, as if to fix her hair, before she remembers her gloved hands and catches herself halfway. "Hello." 

Skye feels stupid, too earnest. She wants to fidget, but her hands are full. "Um, is this a bad time?" she asks. She's stalling, suddenly nervous that this was a bad idea after all.

Jemma shakes her head. "No, no, it's fine," she says. There's a gentle clink, as she deftly recaps several test tubes and clears her workstation. The table surface is still cluttered, still not-quite-Simmons, but the way she snaps her gloves off and removes her goggles is reassuringly familiar. "What's going on?"

She looks concerned. It takes Skye a minute before she realizes that, of course, they've been stumbling from one crisis to another for what feels like months, now. She shakes her head. "Everything's fine. I just - I don't know. Thought you might be hungry. I haven't seen you around much." 

"Oh," Jemma says. 

She frowns, and Skye rushes to fill the silence. "I mean, I know you and -" she hesitates, not quite able to say Fitz's name. "You keep a pretty good stash of candy going, but I figure after four days, things have got to be running pretty low." 

"I guess it has been a while since I had a proper meal."

"Right? And, I brought tea."

"You did? Oh, Skye," Jemma says, lighting up. In that moment, everything feels exactly like it's supposed to. 

"There's also food, in case caffeinated beverages aren't enough." 

Jemma makes a happy little _yum_ noise in the back of her throat, and goes for the plate first. It's nothing special - leftover pasta from dinner the night before, but it was Trip's night to cook, and he's surprisingly good at it. Jemma eats like it's tasty, but also like maybe Skye was right about the last time she had real food, and Skye does her best not to seem like she's staring. "Sorry," Jemma says, backing off to her usual pace after the first dozen bites. "I guess I have been a little preoccupied." 

Skye shrugs, like Jemma actually means _preoccupied_ and not _living in the lab sifting through evil science from a secret organization that put my best friend in a coma._ "I get that. I've pulled more than a few marathon coding sessions in my time." 

Jemma smiles, a little sheepish. "I even fell asleep in the lab last night, can you believe it?"

She's looking at Skye a little more knowingly than Skye would like. "Wow, no way," she says, but she can feel her ears burning with embarrassment.

Jemma's expression goes suddenly earnest. She reaches out to run her thumb over the back of Skye's hand, and her touch leaves little sparks along Skye's skin. "Thanks for looking in on me." 

Skye shrugs, suddenly bashful. "It was no big deal, really." 

"I still appreciate it." 

Their eyes meet across the lab bench, and Skye feels her heart do a flip. It's ridiculous - she's been living on the same airplane as Simmons for the better part of a year, and suddenly she's getting all flustered. She looks away on purpose. Her hands feel itchy, aimless, and so she takes the mug of tea and passes it over. "Here," she says. "Don't forget."

"Mmm, thank you," Jemma says, smiling again. It's been too long since she smiled this much. 

She takes a sip, and makes this awful expression - halfway between a smile and a wince. She tries to cover for it by taking another sip, but she comes up positively grimacing. "Oh, Skye," she starts, trying to sound polite. 

"You don't have to drink it, if it's gross." She didn't make it badly on purpose, but she's also never made tea for an English person before. She's heard Jemma and Fitz have whole elaborate debates about how one is supposed to make tea _properly_ , and now that she thinks about it, the microwave didn't really feature as an appropriate method.

Jemma pauses a beat, giving the mug a long look before setting it aside. "It's really awful," she says. Then just as quickly as she speaks, she looks horrified. She claps a hand across her mouth almost audibly. "No, Skye, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. It's just that I'm so tired, and I -"

It's pretty cute. But more than that, it's so normal. It's something that could have happened three months ago, when Jemma was pulling all-nighters to perfect the new ICER rounds, or back when they first met. Skye can't help herself; she giggles just a bit. 

Jemma takes a minute to blink at her, sleepily, before she laughs a little herself. It's a nice moment, and it doesn't last long, or fix the fact that Fitz is hurt and everything around them is still a total mess. But for that moment, things feel a little bit safer. A little bit more like they'll end up okay, eventually. 

Skye takes the mug back. "You'll have to give me instructions for next time. Hopefully I can do better." 

Jemma smiles. "Absolutely." 

 

+

 

The next night, Skye takes one last walk past the hangar bay on her way to the rec room. Jemma is there, sleeping across her lab bench with that same blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She's a little far away for Skye to really tell, but doesn't look quite as sad or as small as she used to. Maybe. Either way, she's fine, so it's alright for Skye to keep on her way. 

The rec room is surprisingly nice. Skye still hasn't been able to figure out how many secret bases Fury has, but clearly he did not cheap out on them. The room is huge - Skye still isn't totally sure how many people are in a squadron, but she's pretty sure it could fit at least one. There's a bookshelf and some kind of games table on one side of the room, and the other half is a series of long, leather couches arranged around a flatscreen that works as a SHIELD comms monitor, but also has cable. 

She settles in, flicking through the channels using the tablet mounted into the side table, trying to find something that isn't a news channel or something with explosions. It's surprisingly difficult, and she's just about to switch over to Hulu when she hears a knock in the doorway. It's Jemma, leaning against the doorframe, wearing clean clothes and that blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair is still damp from washing, dark and heavy around her face. She looks a little shy, like she's not sure where she belongs. Skye's pretty sure she hasn't been out of the lab since orientation. 

She pats the space on the couch beside her, an invitation. 

Jemma crosses the distance between them to sit. She perches on the far end of the couch from Skye, draws her knees up to her chest so that she can wrap her blanket around them. "What are you doing?" she asks. 

"Checking out the perks. Did you know SHIELD has HBO?"

"Really?" Jemma says, her voice somewhere between bemused and gently disappointed. 

Skye shrugs. "I've had a long day. I'm pretty sure I've earned it."

Jemma gives her a look, the way she always used to - the way she _does_ when Skye is being glib. It's comforting. "Besides," Skye adds, "I've already cracked the NSA satellite feeds and rebuilt most of the old SHIELD communications networks. What else am I supposed to do?"

Jemma smiles, and for a half-second that cloud of sadness and fatigue lifts again. For one more moment she's the old Jemma, the one that had fun. Skye can feel her heart fluttering in her chest, practically aching at how much she missed that smile. She doesn't know what to do about it, so she decides to talk until it goes away. " _Game of Thrones_?" she asks. "We missed like an entire season."

"Oh, I can't," Jemma says. "Fitz will be so upset if he finds out I caught up without him." 

She says it like he went out to run a couple of errands, like he'll be back any minute to say _Jemma, I can't believe you. This is so unfair, you know I was looking forward to it._ It hangs in the air, awkward for a long minute as they both try not to think what they're clearly thinking ( _what if he doesn't remember_ Game of Thrones, _what if he doesn't remember either of them, what if he doesn't wake up at all_ ).

But then Skye nods, flicks the touch pad and settles on that channel with nature documentaries. They find something about cheetahs, and to Skye's surprise, Jemma makes a little _mmm_ of interest. "Let's watch this one," she says, voice lilting up at the end like a question. 

"Seriously? I figured you'd already know everything there was to know about, like, biology." 

"Oh, but I love cheetahs. They're an amazing example of evolution's capacity for specialization. Not to mention the fascinating debate around whether or not the species has sufficient genetic diversity remaining to be saved from extinction at all, although I doubt they'd be able to address that fully in a television documentary."

"Oh," Skye says, like she understands. "Cool."

They watch for a while - and not that Skye would ever admit it, but cheetahs are pretty cool, and the footage is awesome. The most important thing, though, is that Jemma's clearly enjoying it. She's got a half-smile on her face, a big change from the expression she seems to always carry these days that's someplace between okay and not. Her head rests against her knees as she watches, and her hair starts to slide down from behind her ear, across her eyes. Skye makes a fist to keep herself from fixing it. 

"Skye?" Jemma says, after a while.

"Yeah?"

"I'm really glad I wasn't around when you were planning that assault on Garrett's base. It was really, really dangerous."

Skye can't help herself; she grins like a maniac. "I know, right?"

"I'm serious," Jemma says. "It's a miracle you all made it out of there alive."

She's not wrong, and she looks worried. Like maybe, if Skye had gotten hurt, that would have made the sadness she's carrying around right now even worse. It takes Skye away from the memory of that rush, the adrenaline and sheer dumb bravery that got her through that day. It _was_ super dangerous, and suddenly that bothers her. "Yeah," Skye says, more gently. "But we did."

"I know. I'm really glad that you did." She turns her head toward Skye and her smile widens, reaching her eyes just a little. Skye's really glad that Jemma is glad that she's alive.

"Me too," Skye says. Her face feels warm, like maybe she's going red. She tries her best not to think about why Jemma is making her blush. 

They keep watching, but every so often, Skye's eyes drift away from the screen and over to Jemma. She tells herself that she needs to make sure Jemma's alright, but they're sitting on the couch watching nature documentaries in the back room of a secret underground bunker. It's not like anyone's going to leap up and try to assassinate them. Really, she's just watching for the way Jemma reacts to the program, the way her expression softens with footage of the baby animals, the way she flashes into a half-frown when they make a scientific claim that Skye can only assume is fuzzy and unsubstantiated. 

Slowly, Jemma uncurls, and stretches her legs out towards Skye's end of the couch. Her toes come to rest against Skye's thigh, like it's not a big deal. And it isn't, because they're friends, and friends casually touch each other all the time and it's fine. But tonight, it's making Skye twitchy, like she doesn't know what to do with her own limbs. Her leg feels warm where it's touching Jemma, and she's acutely aware of her own position in space, the way that she's leaning against the arm of the couch and the shape of Jemma's legs stretching towards her. She's not sure if she should move her leg closer, or farther away - not sure if the former would be too forward, if the latter would be too standoffish. She stays as still as possible, trying to pretend she doesn't notice the contact. 

Eventually, Jemma's eyes start to flutter closed, eyelashes dark against her cheeks. She keeps forcing them open, following the television in fits and starts. Skye flexes her thigh, nudging Jemma's toes. "We can turn it off, if you'd rather go to bed."

Jemma shakes her head, drowsily. "No, it's alright."

"Are you sure? I don't mind."

Jemma sighs, frowning down at her lap. "I can't sleep," she almost whispers.

"You seem to sleep okay when you're working late," Skye says.

"No, I mean - not in the rooms. They're too -" She starts to gesture, then shakes her head, wraps her arms around her middle. 

"Oh," Skye says. She doesn't really understand, but she figures there's got to be _something_ , and whatever it is, it's probably Ward's fault. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Jemma turns to look at Skye once, then turns away. When she speaks, her gaze is straight ahead, fixed somewhere in the distance. "Did you know that the rooms here have exactly the same dimensions as one of the medical pods for the Bus? You'd think they'd be different, but - I guess from an engineering perspective, it does make sense. Easier to retrofit things later." Her hands are shaking a little bit. 

Things start to come together in Skye's head, and just like that, the dots connect - the missing med pod, the pickup by Fury. She realizes, with sickening clarity, what happened to Jemma and Fitz the day they almost died. She's suddenly _furious_ \- at everything Ward did all over again, but especially for doing _that_. She lets herself dig her nails into her palms, hard enough to leave marks, but she tries to keep calm. Jemma looks like she needs calm, not anger. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she asks. 

Jemma turns to her and smiles. She looks like she feels safe, and Skye wants desperately to make it true. 

"You are," Jemma says, voice soft and trusting. Then she slides across the couch, closing the space between them to lean against Skye's side. She rests her head on Skye's shoulder, braces her toes against the far arm of the couch. Her hair smells like fresh shampoo, vaguely fruity, and Skye suddenly wants to bury her nose in it and breathe deep. She settles for an arm around Jemma's shoulders, keeping her close. 

They stay like that, Jemma's head heavy and warm against Skye's shoulder, while Skye's arm slowly goes numb. The television cycles from cheetahs to penguins to something where adorable dogs rescue their owners. Eventually, Skye hears the slow, even breathing that means Jemma's fallen asleep. It's only then that she lets her eyes close. 

She wakes up alone, hours later, with an incredibly sore neck and Trip standing over her, teasing her gently about sleeping through their morning workout. 

She doesn't mind a bit. 

 

+

 

Skye goes down to the gym in the afternoon, after she's stretched out her neck and changed. May joins her for a little while, mostly calling out suggestions while she watches Skye work out. She still pictures Ward's stupid, smug face on everything she can possibly punch or kick, using that anger to hit harder, get stronger. 

May works with her for a little while on the hand pads, and Skye pushes herself, hard. She gets a lucky hit in, a half-second sooner than May was expecting, and knocks the pad right out of her hand. 

"Good," May says, with actual appreciation in her voice. "Use that. Keep going." 

She does. She hits and hits until her body is on fire, until she's exhausted and her anger is all burnt out. 

It's not until later, when she's in the shower, that it hits her. That instead of thinking about Ward the way she always does - _I hate you for lying to me, I hate you for kidnapping me, I hate you for being a big creep_ \- she's thinking of a different mantra altogether. Today, with every hit, it was _that's for what you did to Simmons_.

Skye just doesn't - she doesn't do this. She doesn't know what she's supposed to do when this happens, when people start becoming important to her. Especially not with someone like Jemma, who is clearly way smarter than she is, way better. And oh _god_ , if there was ever a time to not develop an inappropriate crush on someone she works with, it would be now. Jemma's been through so much, is still going through so much with Fitz. She doesn't need to deal with Skye being an _idiot_ on top of it. 

She wants to go for a run, get rid of the nervous energy of feeling like this, but she's already exhausted. The best she can do is lean her head against the shower stall and breathe. 

 

+

 

The next time she sees Jemma, it's almost a full day later. She's sitting in the rec room again, camped out on the couch while she works on fine-tuning the last communication channels Coulson needs, hopefully Hydra-free. She's getting to the point where she needs to move - her laptop is warm on her knees, and her shoulders are a little sore from the angle - but staying in the same spot is pretty compelling, especially after yesterday's workout. Jemma just appears, wearing clean clothes, wandering in like leaving the lab and showering are things she does all the time, now. 

"Hullo, Skye," she says, leaning against the doorframe. She's fidgeting with both hands, looking out of place. 

Skye suddenly realizes that the last time they saw each other, Jemma fell asleep in her arms. Which isn't a big deal, because they're friends, but she suddenly wonders if she should have - whatever. Said something, done something. Maybe that's why Jemma feels awkward. But then, she's out of the lab, and Skye doesn't know why or how, but she doesn't want to do anything to jinx it. 

"Hey," she says back, feeling herself smile without thinking, too-wide like a big dork. 

"What are you up to?"

"Oh, just - you know. Setting up some stuff for Coulson."

Jemma moves closer, around the back of the couch to look over Skye's shoulder at her monitor. "What kind of stuff?" she asks, and it occurs to Skye that of course, she's a super science genius, she can follow what Skye's doing in tech-speak. 

"Well, all of the old communications and tech networks are still useful, but we have to assume they're all compromised since so many Hydra agents had security clearance. So I'm trying to create a new, secure system using enough old code that I don't have to rewrite the whole thing from scratch, but without leaving any possible back doors for anyone else. "

Jemma makes a little noise of understanding. 

"What about you?" Skye asks, turning to face her. "Out of the lab two days in a row, that's a big deal."

She makes that expression again, slightly awkward, and looks away. Skye kicks herself for even asking. It's none of her business, not really. "Well, I needed a little variety, is all."

"Yeah?"

Jemma smiles, nudges Skye's shoulder. "The lab does get a bit quiet, from time to time."

Skye feels herself going red, embarrassed. "Yeah, I just meant - it's nice to see you around. That's all."

Jemma's cheeks go pink, and she fidgets with her hands, again. She seems like she wants to look away, but she keeps her eyes right on Skye. "Well, it's a bit lonely, without someone else there." 

She trails off expectantly, and Skye stares at her for a long moment before she recognizes it as a hint. "Oh," she says, dumbly. "Yeah. I mean, I could bring my stuff over, if you wanted the company." 

Jemma looks surprisingly happy, and Skye can feel herself grinning back. "I mean, if you wanted," Jemma says. 

Skye replies too quickly, "Yeah. I was just thinking of moving anyway, the couch isn't the best for this kind of stuff."

She closes her laptop, gathers her stuff. She follows Jemma to the lab, trying to ignore the way that having her close makes her heart beat faster. 

 

They work alongside each other in quiet for a while, Jemma prepping a whole flight of microscope slides while Skye codes. Eventually, though, Skye gets close to finishing. Focused work on her computer turns into trawling Reddit and trying not to spend too much time staring over the top of her screen at Jemma. Jemma, who's gone from preparing her slides to working on them. She's got this kind of cycle going - from the microscope, where she frowns and nods, then to her tablet, where she taps the end of the stylus against her mouth and sighs, then back again.

Eventually, Skye starts to feel a little guilty for not helping out. (Well, that, and she's already checked all her usual subreddits.) "Need a hand with anything?" she asks. Jemma starts, but only a little. She looks up, considering Skye with a focus that she's not used to. It makes her want to look away, having Jemma's eyes on her like that, so she keeps talking. "I mean, obviously I can't do biochemistry or whatever, but I can do - stuff, probably. I could pour things. Or, whatever the science word is for pouring."

Jemma makes a face, halfway between uncomfortable and shy, and looks away. When she speaks, it's to her microscope. "It is a little strange working here without -" she takes a breath, recovers. "On my own." 

"I thought that's why I was hanging around," Skye says. She tries to say it as gently as she can, to show that she's joking. 

"It's not - I mean, I often work best when I can talk through my work, is all."

"People say I'm a great listener."

Jemma looks back at Skye, almost gratefully. Skye's heart does a flip. "I guess I could use a lab tech."

"Awesome. What do lab techs do?"

Just like that, Jemma's back in science mode, voice measured and calm. "Well, I'm trying to make sense of the solution that Agent Garrett was using to keep himself alive. Limited, obviously, by the fact that _somebody_ managed to vaporise his body, so all I have available are standard postmortem tissue samples, which is hardly sufficient, _obviously_. But I'm finding that the samples we did retrieve aren't fitting in with what we know about how its component parts behave, which is - "

"Weird?"

"Unexpected," Jemma says, gently correcting. 

Jemma doesn't say any more. Skye feels like Fitz would know what to do, here. She can practically hear him, starting to say something about how Garrett was in the Deathlok program or whatever, helping Jemma leap to the next scientific conclusion. But all Skye has is a year of high school biology and another year of half-listening to Jemma and Fitz argue about high-tech science, which is pretty much useless. "Well, explain it to me. What are they doing that's so unexpected or whatever?"

Jemma slides over her tablet, which is full of terrifyingly complicated chemical sketches. "Alright," she says. "Well, we know how the Centipede serum behaves on a macroscopic - in a large scale way, because we still have SHIELD data on captured Centipede soldiers and Mike Peterson. And from that research, we know how it behaves on a microscopic - cell-sized level, as well."

Her voice is patient, calm, and to Skye's total surprise, she finds herself kind of getting it. 

"And because we've been able to recover my research on GH325 and Coulson's medical files, I know how it interacts with the biology of you and Coulson." She taps across the screen, and the diagram changes, two molecules doing something together. "Now it stands to reason that the same way Centipede amplifies human physiology, it should amplify the effects of GH325, but by all accounts of Garrett he was experiencing wide-scale decay. Which is the first problem. The second is that I'm able to isolate fragments of what might be a GH325-like substance in his system, which should be impossible."

"It should?"

Jemma looks at Skye, a little guiltily. "Well, I've been unable to isolate it from samples of any known recipients, so far." 

"Maybe it was a different drug." 

"Or maybe - " Jemma stops, frowns. 

She moves across the lab to the rack of test tubes, reaching for a vial of something orange. Skye recognizes it immediately. "Isn't that the -"

"- Centipede serum, exactly."

"Isn't that explosive?"

Jemma shrugs, reaching for a second rack of test tubes. "Probably not, at least in vitro. Sorry. I mean, outside of a live mammalian host."

She splits it into four tiny vials, caps them. She's about to pass them to Skye when she stops, looks at her hands. "You should probably wear gloves."

Skye finds a pair from a nearby box. "Can you take these over to the centrifuge and spin them down for me? A minute should do it."

"The centrifuge is the -" 

"Over there. The box thing in the corner. I'll come over and show you how it works."

Skye finds it, opens it, realizes that it has little holes that exactly fit the test tubes she's holding. From across the room, Jemma says, absently, "You need to make sure it's balanced or it'll spin off its centre of gravity."

Skye's not 100% on what that would look like, but it doesn't sound great, so - symmetrical. She loads the centrifuge, and Jemma comes over and leans in next to her. The corner is narrow enough that they need to stand shoulder to shoulder, and Jemma is warm against Skye's side in a way that makes her feel shaky. Jemma nods, then leans over and rearranges two vials, so that the arrangement goes from mostly-even to perfectly so. "Sorry," she says, and to Skye's surprise she flushes pink. "I'm being particular. It was fine before, I just like when it's exactly balanced." 

Her hair smells amazing. All Skye can think to say is, "Oh."

Jemma turns her head, facing Skye. Her mouth is so close, and Skye has to bite her lip to keep from leaning over and tasting it. Her eyes seem darker from here, bigger and browner, and for a moment it seems like her gaze flicks down to Skye's lips. 

"You have to turn it on," Jemma says, and her voice sounds lower, huskier than Skye remembers. "Like this. And then you watch the timer."

There's a click, as Jemma reaches over to push a button. The centrifuge whirs into life, bringing them both back to reality. "Right," Skye says, trying to lean back, breathe. "One minute, right?"

"Right," Jemma says, looking away. Her ears are bright red, as she turns and goes back to the far side of the lab. 

Skye brings the samples back, once the centrifuge is done, and Jemma takes them without looking up. She's busy at her tablet, alternating between writing and pouring drops of things into each of the test tubes. Skye just leans back against the lab bench, watching her work. 

It's not long before she turns to the microscope, checking one of the samples and crowing, "Of course! The stabilizing agents that kept the Centipede serum from exploding also stabilized the GH325-like substance." She looks up, nodding at Skye like she should be just as excited. It makes Skye feel warm all over, knowing that she helped, that she made Jemma feel better, even if it's only for a few minutes. "That might be sufficient to account for the effects, if only I had some mice I could - what?"

Skye doesn't realize that she's been staring, probably with a big dopey look on her face, until Jemma asks her about it. Now that she's caught, she doesn't know what to say. She can't say the obvious, _you're so cute when you're discovering something_ , because it's not the time, not appropriate. She's not sure what else to say, but before she can come up with something she finds herself saying, "I thought you died." 

Jemma frowns, pushes away from the microscope. "What?"

Skye wants to take it back, wants to hide. She wasn't going to talk about this, about how hurt she was and how scared she is of how much it upset her, thinking that Jemma and Fitz weren't alive anymore. But now it's out there, so she takes a breath, pushes on. "When we were still searching for Garrett," she says. "He told me you were dead." 

Jemma's face crumples into concern, so honest, so caring, that Skye can hardly stand it. "Oh, Skye," she says, crossing the room to stand across the lab bench from her. 

It's almost too much, and Skye doesn't want to _cry_ right now, so she does her best to be calm, to be brave. "I just - I'm really glad you didn't," she half-whispers. 

Jemma reaches over, takes both of Skye's hands in hers and slides up, gripping her forearms, gently. She ducks her head down to catch Skye's gaze. "Well, I'm really glad, too." 

It gets Skye to laugh, just a little, because _of course_ Jemma's glad she's not dead. She opens her palms to touch the undersides of Jemma's wrists, feeling the way that she's real and warm in front of her, reassuring herself that she's safe. They stay like that for a while, watching each other. Skye can't stop noticing the curve of Jemma's breasts under her button-down, the way the fabric pulls tight across her chest as she leans forward. She wants so badly to move closer, to kiss Jemma until that gentle concern on her face fades away. For a moment, she lets herself think about what it might be like. 

But then there's the sound of boots from nearby, and Skye turns just in time to see Trip walking up the cargo ramp, footsteps loud against the metal. Jemma pulls her hands away, too-quickly. "Agent Triplett!" she says, voice slightly too high-pitched. 

Skye leans back, hooking her thumbs into her sleeves and playing with the hems. 

"Hey," he says, looking between them like there's something to see. "May says dinner's in five. See you there?"

Skye looks at Jemma, questioningly. She smiles, says, "Of course. See you soon."


	2. Chapter 2

The two of them fall into a sort of pattern over the next few days. Skye wakes up early to train with May, just like always. 

But when it comes to doing work - she's modelling traffic patterns for her new comms project for Billy, feeding it back to him so that a second pair of eyes is double-checking the security - she brings her laptop to the lab. Usually, she works on her own stuff in the morning, and by the afternoon Jemma has her helping out in the lab with whatever experiment she's running. She learns how to use the centrifuge properly, and how to make a drinkable cup of tea, and how to follow Jemma's train of thought when she's in the middle of solving a puzzle. 

After a few days, they have a whole rhythm down. 

Skye gets to the lab early, after she's showered and started her day. Jemma is usually there already - Skye's pretty sure she's still sleeping in the lab. Skye sets up her laptop and gets started, working until Jemma needs her. Today, Jemma is puzzling through more of the Centipede stuff - she has some kind of candidate mechanism for the way GH-325 worked in Garrett, and Skye doesn't fully understand the details, but it involves Centipede and something about heavy metal exposure. 

Jemma usually works quietly for the first few hours. Well, mostly quietly. Every so often, she'll sigh, say something like _that's ridiculous_ or _what if it bonded using partially inorganic properties? Ha!_ , then go back to writing things out. Skye doesn't really need to be around for it - she's not helping - but she sort of likes to be. There's something nice about watching Jemma work - the way she'll tap the end of her pen against her lips when she's thinking, or the way she'll twist a strand of hair around her middle finger over and over again while she thinks, until it curls by itself into one perfect ringlet. 

If she's honest, she just likes being around Jemma. She's trying not to think too hard about why that is, but it's not unrelated to the way that she can't stop thinking about her.

Today, Jemma's mostly sketching things out in her lab book. Skye's watched enough to know that she's drawing out chemical reactions ( _retrosyntheses_ , she remembers from yesterday). She taps the end of her pen against her mouth, and Skye can't help but pay attention to the shape of it, the way her lower lip catches between her teeth when she frowns at the page. "Ohh," Jemma murmurs absently, just the right tone of voice to give Skye goosebumps. "I really should double-check the molecular structure of the other. . ."

Skye's laptop chirps, and she realizes she's just stopped a program mid-test with her elbow, distracted. She drags her attention back to the work she's supposed to be doing, setting it to run again and trying not to think about the way her face feels flushed and her heart feels like it's beating faster. 

A few minutes later, Jemma says her name, still half-distracted by whatever she's working out. Followed by, "Can you warm up the holotable?" 

Skye moves to help. She's never actually been allowed to use the holotable before, but it's basically just a computer with an incredibly fancy monitor, as far as she can tell. She flicks the power switch under the tabletop and waits, as it whirs softly into life. The opening display appears at eye level, rows of blue text that look pretty straightforward to figure out. She reaches forward, pulling a familiar-sounding filename towards her.

Jemma looks up. She doesn't yell, the way Fitz would, but she does frown and let out an exasperated sigh. "You really shouldn't use that unless you've done at least an introductory semester in holographic engineering, we've talked about this."

"Fine, fine," Skye says, dropping the file and bringing her hands back towards herself. 

Jemma sighs. "I'm sorry. It's just - there are quantum principles you need to appreciate in order to keep from - " then she stops, suddenly. Skye can almost see her thinking, realizing that the Academy probably doesn't offer Introduction to Holotables For Super Geniuses anymore, what with being obliterated by a secret evil organization. She tilts her head, considering. 

"Oh," she finally says. She sort of deflates a little, like she's not sure how to proceed. Then, more thoughtfully, "Maybe I could find time to teach you the basics." 

It's pretty much the total opposite of what Skye was expecting to hear. "Yeah?" she says, hardly believing her.

Jemma's smile is a little indulgent as she nods. "Yes."

Skye feels a thrill, 50% getting to play with expensive, secret computer technology, and 50% taking lessons in anything from Jemma. "Badass," she says, trying to sound like it's no big deal. "When do we start?" 

"Well," Jemma glances over to her microscope, considering. "I do have some time now, if you're interested."

"Definitely."

"Alright, then." Jemma says, settling into her Hermione voice again. "So. Each table is really a terminal, run on the same basic three-dimensional quantum display system as -"

Skye hears the word _quantum_ and starts to glaze over. She forces herself to try and follow it, because she _wants_ this, but anything with physics more complicated than _gravity makes things fall down_ tends to leave her totally lost. Jemma only manages a few more minutes before she catches Skye's frown, backpedals. "Right," she says. "What if I try to explain it this way: there are four basic gestures to moving through the file system. Once you've mastered those, you can navigate through the database and find what you need. Later, I'll show you how to act on things in each data set."

Skye doesn't want to make a thing about it, but someday she needs to figure out a way to tell Jemma how amazing it is, that she takes the time to make Skye feel like this science stuff is something she can understand. Today, she says, "See? Did I really need a PhD in quantum engineering to know that?"

Jemma's mouth curls into this sweet little half-smile, like Skye's done something sort of cute. 

They work on the four gestures for a little while - flick up to open, slide down to close, push away to expand, pull to collapse. Jemma makes Skye practice in front of her on the lab bench, gently naming commands and either smiling when she does it properly, or gently frowning and asking her to try again when her hands aren't quite right. She's patient with Skye, never sharp, never mean if she doesn't know an answer or messes something up. That's what makes this so nice. 

They go over things until Jemma's satisfied that Skye can handle the basics, before moving on.

"Now, manipulating objects is slightly different. Each folder runs on - hmm." She frowns, quiet and clearly working to find the best way to explain without using physics. "A folder can only be open in one place at a time. Within it, objects can be moved in all three dimensions."

"That sounds easy enough." 

"It is, but there's a technique to the - here, I'll show you." 

Her hands flick up, and she scrolls through folders with her index finger until she lands on the right one. "This is from my first undergraduate thesis, the molecules are a bit simpler. They'll be easier to manipulate."

She gestures again to open the file, and suddenly the table screen is filled with a dozen spiky shapes. They're less complicated than the Centipede diagrams Skye's seen before, but they still look like small shrubs, balls and sticks everywhere. "I'm going to teach you about reactions."

"Whoa. You sure I need to know that kind of stuff if I'm just a lab tech?"

"I don't know," Jemma says, thoughtfully. "But, if you want to - it's really cool."

"Yeah?"

Jemma suddenly gets shy, and looks away. "I mean, if you want. We don't have to -"

"No, no," Skye says, too quick and too eager. "I mean, yes. I want to learn."

Jemma smiles, the wide one where her nose wrinkles, and her eyes get bright. "Excellent."

She explains about how the reaction software works, the way you can take molecules and smush them together and see what they'll turn into, like a simulation before trying the real thing. She demonstrates a couple of times, pulling shapes together just so, until they start connecting and reforming and settling into different things. Skye has to admit, it _is_ really cool. She watches for a while, trying to follow the basics of what reacts with what and mimic the way Jemma flicks her fingers to get the molecules to interact with each other. 

Eventually, Jemma turns to her and says, "Alright. Now you try." 

Jemma points out which shapes to grab, and Skye does her best to drag them together and flick, the way Jemma showed her. But instead of reacting, the molecules bounce happily against each other, refusing to change. It's disappointing, and she's about to ask how to fix her technique when Jemma is just there, reaching up behind her arms to correct the angle of her wrist. 

"Here," she says, voice soft and close to Skye's ear. "Like this. You have to line up the hydroxyl group just so."

Her fingertips are soft and gentle against the back of Skye's hands as she corrects the angle and helps her grab the molecules again, hand over hand. "You'll want to flick your fingers out, just like you did, but the trick is in the timing." 

Jemma leans forward, reaching to make sure that Skye's arms are positioned just right, and when she does, her front presses into Skye's back, warm and solid. Skye does her best to focus very hard on chemistry. They move her arms back together, lining the two shapes up on the display. Then Jemma starts to ease her arms closer together. "Alright, flick of the fingers - now," she says, tapping Skye's wrist. 

Skye does as she's told, and the molecules collide just like they're supposed to, meeting and changing into two different shapes in a flash of computer-generated light. She laughs, delighted, before she can think about how to respond. "Hey, I did science," she says, only half-joking. 

She turns to Jemma just in time to catch her beaming, eyes warm on Skye's face. She makes a little pleased noise in the back of her throat. "You did," she says, matter-of-factly. Like she was always expecting Skye to be able to succeed. 

Neither of them moves away. 

Now that they're looking at each other and not the table, Skye realizes just how close Jemma's face is. She notices a bunch of other things, too - the way Jemma is just slightly shorter than her, enough that if Skye were to lean in for a kiss she'd have to duck down. She notices the smell of Jemma's shampoo, the colour of her eyes, the way she's looking at Skye like she can't decide if she's hungry or terrified. Jemma licks her lips, and it draws Skye's attention down to her mouth. She's struck, all over again, with thoughts about how nice it would be to kiss her. Without thinking, one of her hands moves from the table work surface to Jemma's waist. 

As she moves, her hand flicks down, and the table display closes with an electronic hum. 

Jemma is the one who turns away, looking down at her hands and coughing. "Well," she says, voice a little too loud, too cheerful. "I should really show you where the Centipede files are." 

It sounds a bit like a proposition, because Skye's hand is still at her waist and Jemma isn't moving away, but she turns back to the holotable. If her hands are a little clumsy as she flicks up to the folder display screen, Skye doesn't mention it. 

 

*

 

Skye is the one who stumbles across Jemma the night after that. 

She's on her way to bed, tired after a day of working out and coding with Jemma in the lab. As she walks by the rec room, she notices a familiar shape sitting on the couch, and stops. She hasn't seen Jemma hanging out by herself outside the lab before. But the rec room makes sense - it's the biggest, most open space in the Playground, next to the hangar. 

She's curled up on one of the couches with her tablet, back to the door. Skye should keep going. She has an early morning with May tomorrow, and she's had enough experience with weapons drills to know that her aim goes to shit when she shows up sleep-deprived. But now that she's seen Jemma, she can't help but slow down. She wants to sit next to her, make sure that she's okay and figure out what she's working on. And somehow, that feels way more important than getting to bed on time, right now. 

She knocks on the doorframe, just loudly enough to break Jemma's concentration. "Hey."

"Skye," Jemma says, turning to smile over her shoulder. 

Skye moves to lean over the back of the couch Jemma's sitting on, glancing at her tablet screen. "What are you reading?"

She recognizes the stuff on half the screen from the lab, sees the Centipede formulae lined up in neat rows. The other half is dense text, but what jumps out are terms like _anoxic brain injury_ and _therapeutic hypothermia_ and it doesn't take a super-genius to figure out why Jemma might be reading about that. Jemma frowns, looks away. "It's nothing. Just - research." 

She doesn't look happy, anymore. That dark cloud is back over her expression, and her jaw clenches tight as she puts the screen to sleep.

It's so different from the way she's been the past few days, at least around Skye. She walks around to sit next to Jemma, ducks her head down to catch Jemma's eyes. "Hey, what's up?"

"I just - " she shakes her head. "It's alright."

Skye bumps Jemma's shoulder with her own. "I didn't ask if it was alright, I asked what was up."

Jemma goes quiet. She makes a point of not looking at Skye. Skye can see her jaw tightening, her expression growing impossibly sad. "I miss Fitz. I should be doing more for him," she says, voice tight. "I know, he's got a medical team, and they're - they're the most qualified. I don't want to meddle. But I can't help but feel like there must be the technology to fix this, if Hydra can create invincible super-soldiers, and I can't even -" 

She doesn't finish, but then, she doesn't have to. Skye understands. But understanding doesn't make it any easier to see her like this, tearing herself up because she feels like she should be able to save him. Skye puts an arm around her and holds her close, because she can't think of anything to say. 

Jemma leans into the embrace, tucking her head into the hollow of Skye's shoulder and staring down at her hands. They sit for a long moment before Jemma speaks again. 

"He sacrificed himself, for me," she says, like she can hardly believe it, like she's testing it out loud. "We could have figured something out, we could have rerouted the oxygen tank to accommodate us both. We had at least another two and a half minutes."

"Oh." 

"I wish he hadn't," she whispers, voice growing watery. "I wish whatever we'd done, it had happened to both of us, together." 

Skye pets Jemma's hair, trying to comfort her. "He wanted to make sure he kept you safe. If you hadn't been awake, you wouldn't have been able to get rescued."

"i know. But I hate it. I just -" Jemma pauses take a long, deliberate breath in, then out. She's crying now, openly. "He saved me, because he's in love with me, and now he's unconscious and nobody knows what he'll be like when he wakes up. And the first thing I have to do is break his heart."

"Oh." 

Skye doesn't know what else to say. Every part of her is just aching to fix this, to fix Fitz and the way Jemma is hurting and the anger burning under Skye's own skin with Ward's name on it, for doing this to them. But that's the hard part. She can't fix any of it. She wraps her arm tighter around Jemma's shoulders, letting Jemma curl into her as her tears give way to full-body sobs. 

She lets Jemma cry until she can feel her tears through her shirt, petting her hair and whispering ( _lying_ , a part of her thinks) that it's going to be okay. It's not until Jemma looks up, sniffling, that Skye realizes she's been crying, too. 

"Oh, Skye," Jemma says, and rests her forehead against Skye's. 

Jemma's hands are on either side of her neck, warm and comforting. Her eyes are red-rimmed, cheeks pink and shining with tears. It shouldn't be pretty. It's not supposed to be pretty, but all Skye can think about is how beautiful Jemma looks and how deeply, desperately happy she is that Jemma is here and safe in front of her, even if she is upset. She has a sudden, inappropriate urge to tell Jemma that she looks gorgeous right now. She doesn't, but Jemma's eyes are so dark and her mouth is shining and before Skye really realizes what's happening, they're touching noses and then she's leaning into a kiss. 

If telling Jemma she's beautiful was inappropriate, this is clearly so, so much worse. 

Jemma kisses back, briefly, and something in Skye's chest does a flip. Kissing her, Skye suddenly realizes just how much she wants this, and it's overwhelming. Everything is too much. She doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to handle how she feels or how Jemma feels or the fact that they're both crying, warm salt running over Skye's lips. 

"I'm sorry," Skye whispers, pulling away. God, she's such an idiot. "I just - I'll go. I'm sorry." 

She lets herself take one more look at Jemma. She's still beautiful - she's always beautiful, but especially like this. Just a little bit tousled, open-mouthed, fingertips pressed to her mouth in surprise. 

Skye leaves, and doesn't look back until she's in her bunk, sinking down against the closed door. There, she lets herself keep crying, until she's tired enough to crawl into bed. 

 

+

 

The next morning, Skye wakes up exhausted. Her eyes are swollen, and she does the best to scrub them clean before she drags herself down to weapons training. She's all over the place, aim way off her usual. She tries to tell May that it's because she's tired, but it comes out sounding like a lie. 

She's not tired. She's distracted, because she can't stop thinking about kissing Jemma, and how dumb it was to do it, and how much she wants to do it again. 

May is patient with her, even though it doesn't feel like she deserves it today. She holds her by the shoulders, fixes her stance. She looks her in the eye and gives her a mantra, repeats it in her calmest, most even voice until Skye settles down. _Five, four, aim. Three, two, one, fire. Better. Now do it again. Maintain that focus._ Skye does her best to pay attention to that instead of the fluttering of her heart. 

 

The next night, Coulson comes back. 

Without talking about it, everyone arrives for dinner at the same time, without question. They use the same shared cooking schedule they have since they arrived, but it feels different with Coulson back - grabbing a plate of whatever's ready and going back to work, like usual, feels a bit wrong. _Family dinner_ is stretching the term a little bit, but when they sit down to eat at the table together, Coulson at the head, it feels a little bit like that. 

Skye wants to enjoy herself. She has all these jokes saved up for A.C., and a thousand questions about where he went and who he talked to and what's going to happen with SHIELD. But instead, she can't stop thinking about the night before. She knows she did stuff - she coded, she met with Billy - but it feels like her whole day has been a blur of remembering. Her mind keeps alternating between the taste of Jemma's mouth, and the shocked, teary-eyed look on her face when Skye left. 

She wants to talk to Jemma, wants to - whatever, apologize, explain. But she's not sure she can ever look her in the eye again. 

Skye takes her usual seat, in the corner next to Coulson. Everyone else filters in, sitting, and when Jemma chooses the seat directly across the table from Skye, she feels something in her stomach do a flip. She can't quite bring herself to look up, but she can feel Jemma across from her, and that's hard enough. 

Then Coulson starts talking, and that's a little easier. He has news from Maria Hill, and a list of agents - some Skye has heard of, some she hasn't - who are verified as loyal to SHIELD and want to work with them. She tries to focus on that, memorizing details and mentally planning the things he's going to want her to work on. That helps. 

She looks up and across the table just once. It's near the end of dinner, and everyone is relaxed, two different conversations going back and forth across the table. She's listening to Coulson talk about his trip back, how his flight got rerouted through Canada, and her eyes drift over to Jemma's seat. She doesn't mean to, but she times it so that when she looks, Jemma is looking right at her. Their eyes meet, and everything from the night before comes rushing back. She can feel herself blushing, hard, from her chest to her ears, because she is the worst secret agent in the entire world when it comes to stuff like this. 

She doesn't hear the rest of Coulson's story, but she follows enough to laugh at all the right parts, mostly. She starts counting in her head, trying to stay calm, present. _Five, four, breathe. Three, two, one, listen._ Somehow, she manages to make it through the rest of the night.

 

+

 

Skye manages to avoid Jemma for a whole two days, no mean feat when they're two of six living together in an underground base. 

It feels awful. The whole time, she can't stop thinking about that night, the way that Jemma's touch made her heart race and her stomach flutter. She also thinks about how much she misses Jemma's company. Tech is traditionally a pretty solitary activity, but it suddenly feels to quiet to work on her laptop alone. She spends time with Billy, on the couch in his office, but even if he does let her play _Call of Duty_ with him and his brother sometimes, he's terrible company compared to afternoons in the lab with Jemma. 

She wants to talk to her, she does. She knows that the adult thing is to find her, to talk about what happened and apologize and hopefully fix things, a little. But she also doesn't - she can't figure out if she wants Jemma to tell her off, or tell her that she liked it. 

Eventually, she caves, and goes to the lab to apologize. Because she misses her friend, and because she feels like a jerk for ignoring her after Jemma's best friend is already - _not gone, temporarily unavailable_.

To her total surprise, when she gets to the lab, Jemma's not there. Not that she has to be - she doesn't live there, or anything - but she just always has been. Skye's not sure where else she'd even be. She decides to wait for a while, and takes a seat in her favourite chair, the one that feels like an actual desk chair, in the corner. 

It's not long before Jemma appears up the hangar deck with a mug of tea in her hand, looking absent in that way she has when she's really focused. Skye can almost see the wheels turning as she works on whatever puzzle is in her head. It's not until she gets to the lab doors that she notices Skye there, waiting. She stops dead. 

"Hey," Skye says. 

Jemma's expression is unreadable, somewhere in the neighbourhood of surprise. She sets her tea down, but a little too quickly, spilling slightly. With her free hand she tugs at the hem of her shirt, smoothing it. "Skye."

And then there's just silence. Jemma watches her expectantly, which is - well, it's probably the right thing to do, since Skye did show up here to talk. But now that Jemma's in front of her, she can't quite find her voice. She wants to say so much, and find the words to fix everything. But she's also _so bad_ at talking about stuff like this. Eventually, she says, "I'm just, really sorry. About the other night."

"Oh," Jemma says. Her face is still expressionless, so with nothing to go on, Skye just keeps talking. 

"I shouldn't have kissed you like that. It was out of line, and you were upset, and I - it won't happen again, okay?"

"Oh," Jemma says, but this time there's a hint of a frown. Like maybe that wasn't the answer she was hoping for. 

"Is that okay?" Skye asks, suddenly unsure. 

"Of course," Jemma says. "If that's what you'd prefer, I -"

"Well, because that's what you'd want, right?"

"Right?"

"Right?"

They're both blushing, talking over each other and talking with their hands. It's incredibly awkward, and by the time they've finished, Simmons winces, visibly. 

"Okay," Skye says, taking a deep breath. "So, I'm really bad at this kind of thing."

"Me too." 

"But I, um." She stops, trying to figure out how to explain herself, going through terms that are too juvenile, too serious. She finally settles on, "I like you." 

"Oh," Jemma sighs out, like it's a relief to hear. "Good." 

"Good?"

Jemma steps closer. She's standing right in front of Skye, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater-vest. "I like you, too."

Her smile is a little shy, but she still leans down towards Skye. One hand comes up and cradles the back of Skye's head, fingers loosely tangled in her hair. Her fingertips press, gently, and Skye tilts her head so that her mouth brushes against Jemma's. It's perfect, electric. She kisses into her, reaching out to wrap her hands around Jemma's waist, the curve of her back. 

She pulls, trying to get Jemma closer, but she forgets about the fact that she's sitting and Jemma's standing. Jemma sort of stumbles forward, half into Skye's lap and half-straddling her leg, still kissing, still eager to hold her close. 

They pull away. Skye's panting, so into this - into _her_. And Jemma is practically in her lap, pupils blown, mouth bright pink and kiss-swollen in a way that makes Skye just want to keep kissing her. "Is this okay? Am I - I feel like I'm taking advantage."

Jemma shakes her head, emphatically no. "You're not," she says, firmly. "I've thought about this."

Something un-knots in Skye's chest. She leans closer. "Are you sure?" she murmurs against Jemma's mouth. 

Jemma answers with a kiss. 

Skye reaches up, letting her fingers slip through Jemma's hair, messing up her ponytail completely. All she can focus on his how amazing this is, the way her heart feels like it's going to fly right out of her chest, it's beating so fast. She likes everything about this so much, the kissing and the taste of Jemma's mouth and the feeling of her, solid and real in her lap. Her hand fists in Jemma's hair, pulling slightly, and Jemma lets out this sweet, hungry moan against Skye's mouth. She likes that, too. 

Jemma is the one who slides hands underneath Skye's shirt, raising goosebumps as she runs those fingers along her belly and her back. Her skin feels like it's on fire, overheated and sensitive everywhere that she's being touched. She tears away from Jemma's mouth and kisses a path down, along her jaw, along her throat. She kisses until she can feel Jemma's pulse under her tongue, beating strong and hot and alive beneath her skin. She moves lower, and finds a spot on Jemma's throat that makes her dig her nails in against Skye's back, whimpering. God, she wants this. She wants this and everything that she hopes is going to come after. 

Jemma bucks her hips forward, grinding against Skye's thigh. The chair she's sitting on slides backwards, bumping against the lab bench behind her. It's not enough to distract her from what's happening in her lap, but it's enough to make her remember that they're making out - _hard_ \- in the lab. The very public lab, with the big open doors. 

"We should probably stop," she sighs against Jemma's ear. 

Jemma leans back, frowning. Her hair is all mussed, eyes a little glazed over with arousal. The sight makes Skye definitely not want to stop. "What?"

"We should stop," Skye says. Jemma's frown deepens. "Just for now. Here, in the lab."

"Oh," she says. Then she leans in to press a kiss to Skye's pulse, to lick in behind her ear. "Why?"

Skye takes a moment to groan, because Jemma's tongue is sending shivers right down to her groin and this is _torture_. "Well, for one thing, I just finished working on the security feeds for this place, and there are like nineteen cameras that can see us right now. I was thinking you might want to do this someplace more private."

"Oh, right. That does make sense." Jemma says, but her eyes say something entirely different. 

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"You might need to stand up for that." 

Jemma makes a face that could almost be described as pouting, but she stands up. Skye's shirt is hiked up halfway to her breasts, and she doesn't miss the way Jemma's eyes find her bare skin as she tugs it down, trying to smooth it into something presentable. She doesn't know what to say. Her head is still foggy, stuck in a loop of _maybe we could hook up on the holotable_ , but she's trying to be responsible. She's not sure what responsible people do, right now. "We could, um," she starts. "Do this again sometime?" 

Jemma nods, reaching up to tug her hair back into a presentable, neat ponytail. "Yes. Yes, we - definitely."

"So I should see you?"

Jemma coughs, smooths out her shirt. "Soon, yes," she says. Her tone sounds like maybe she wishes _soon_ was _right now_. 

Skye doesn't know quite how to do this, what to say so that it's alright that she's walking away from this, even for a minute, when every part of her wants to stay. "Okay." 

"Right."

She leaves the lab, because that seems like it might be the most responsible thing to do. Jemma watches her, with that longing look on her face, the whole way out. 

 

+

 

Skye spends the rest of the day trying to get work done - after taking a break for the longest, coldest shower she can possibly stand - but her heart's not in it. She gets started on something, and then five minutes in, she's daydreaming about Jemma and her mouth and the press of her body against Skye's. It's not helping her finish all of the stuff Coulson wants her to be working on, at all. But somehow that doesn't seem like a big deal, when her heart is threatening to flutter out of her chest because _Jemma kissed her_ , and she got to kiss back. 

That night, she tries to sleep, but ends up spending an hour staring at the ceiling instead, remembering the feel of Jemma's nails across her back. 

Eventually she gives up. She thinks about another cold shower (and thinks about a _hot_ shower) but decides on a walk, instead. And if her feet somehow take her past the hangar area, to the corner where she can look in and see if Jemma's still awake, it definitely wasn't on purpose. 

 

She probably shouldn't be so surprised to see Jemma there, sitting at her desk with her head down, like she's thinking about sleeping. It's not - Skye doesn't want to bother her. But she wants to be around her, all the time, and before she totally realizes what she's doing, she's walking up the cargo ramp and into the lab. Jemma looks up at the sound of her steps. She doesn't startle anymore, the way she used to. 

"Oh, Skye," she says, running a hand sleepily across her face.

Of course, now that Jemma's in front of her, Skye doesn't really know what to say. "Hey," she starts. "I - um. I was going to go to bed, but then I thought about you."

Jemma responds with a _look_ , like maybe that sentence came out more like a proposition than Skye intended. She tries again. "I just meant, if you're sleepy, I mean - I know the bunks aren't your favourite, but if you felt like sleeping in an actual bed, I could keep you company." Jemma's eyes go wide, and Skye realizes what she's just said. She tries to backpedal, blushing. "Actually. Just, like, sleeping."

"Alright," Jemma says, just a little too quickly. 

"Oh," Skye says, dumbly. She hadn't really thought past that part. "Great. We can go to mine, if you want. Or yours, if that's -"

"No, it's alright. Yours is fine." 

Skye walks back down the cargo ramp, down the hall towards her bunk. Jemma follows, close at her side. Every so often, her fingers brush against Skye's, like a hint. Skye's not usually the holding hands type, but with Jemma, she sort of wants to be. 

The next time their hands touch, Skye grabs out with her pinky and wraps it around Jemma's index finger, keeping it there. Jemma looks down, smiling, and laces her fingers through Skye's. 

 

Once they're there, inside Skye's bunk with the door shut, it sort of hits her. They're _in her bedroom_ , alone, and Jemma's thumb is drawing gentle strokes up and down her wrist. Skye missed the part of being a teenager that involved having a bedroom to bring dates back to, but now that she's here with Jemma, she feels like she gets what that would have been like. 

"So. This is where the magic happens," she says, trying to be glib. 

Jemma doesn't even give her the disapproving look. She just smiles, absently, and lets go of Skye's hand to look around. It's not like there's much to see - bed, dresser, mirror, side table, dirty shirts in a pile on the floor. She picks up Skye's hula doll - the one piece of stuff from the bus she's sort of glad Hydra didn't wreck - and smiles down at it. She runs a finger over its plastic hair, making a face Skye can't totally read before setting it back down. 

"It's nice," she finally says. "I like what you've done with it."

"Yeah, you know, I had some trouble finding a decorator, so I had to make do." That gets a laugh out of Jemma, a soft one that makes her bite her lip. Warmth spreads in Skye's chest, that sort of glow that comes from making Jemma smile, and oh god, does she ever have it _bad_ for her.

They watch each other for a while, uncertain. It takes Skye a minute to remember why they're here. "So," she says. "Sleeping."

Jemma huffs out something between a laugh and a sigh. "Right, sleep. Boy, am I tired." 

"Did you want to -?" Skye gestures toward the bed, but Jemma shakes her head and gestures back, _you first._

So she sits, and Jemma sits next to her, perching nervously on the edge of the mattress. The sheets are all tangled in the corner of the bed, left there from when Skye got up in a hurry. She fights a sudden urge to straighten them. Jemma looks nervous, and Skye can't tell if it's from being in the small space or the fact that they're alone together in a room with a bed. 

"Which side did you want?" Skye asks. 

Jemma tilts her head, thinking for a long minute. Then she leans in, and pulls Skye into a kiss. Skye lets out a little squeak of surprise, caught off guard. 

Soon, though, she settles into the fact that Jemma's kissing her - _kissing her_ , like she means it, all gentle teeth and eager tongue. It's amazing - even better than this afternoon, because they're both a bit less nervous, this time. Skye knows it's okay to groan a little at the feel of Jemma's mouth, hard and sure against hers. She knows it's okay if she presses her palm to the base of Jemma's neck, and pull her close by the front of her shirt. 

It's way better than sleeping. 

Skye kisses back eagerly, lets her palms slide up and down Jemma's sides and under her shirt, searching out bare skin. She's amazing, every part of her, and Skye loves watching the way she responds under her hands. She loves the way she shivers, arches her back, when Skye hikes her shirt up just a little bit. She loves the way she can kiss Jemma until she whimpers, tilting her hips in Skye's direction on the bed. Skye wants this so, so much, she can hardly stand it. She never really got over how hot she was this afternoon, and now Jemma is practically in her lap again, every kiss sending sparks right to her groin. 

She's so, so ready for this, but she's also aware that she's kind of got the upper hand here, what with this being her bedroom, and she just - wants to make sure. She doesn't want to take advantage. So she breaks the kiss, tries to catch her breath. "Hey," she says, and it comes out like a proposition, low and hungry. "I meant it, before. If you just want to-"

Jemma shakes her head, frowning emphatically before Skye can even finish. "Skye," she says, pulling away to look right into her eyes. "I definitely do not want to sleep right now." 

Then she shifts her weight forward, throwing Skye off balance until she's on her back, pinned to the bed with Jemma straddling her hips. Skye reaches up to trace the shape of Jemma's back as she curves over her. As her fingertips walk across the ridges of her backbone, drawing goosebumps, Jemma reaches forward. Her hands find the buttons of Skye's shirt, and she opens them one by one, slow and sure. With every button, she spreads Skye's shirt open a little more, dragging her fingers across the tops of her breasts, her sternum, her belly. 

Once Skye's shirt is completely undone she leans back on her heels, as though to take in the view. Her eyes are hungry as they move across Skye's body, taking in the sight of her kissed-out, half-dressed underneath her. She licks her lips, whispers, "Beautiful." 

She slides forward, sliding her hands down Skye's arms to help Skye out of her shirt completely. Skye obliges as quickly as she can, all but tossing her shirt across the room, unhooking her own bra. It's Jemma who eases her back down onto the bed, fingertips gently pressing against her shoulders until she's flat on her back again, bra only half-on, looking up at Jemma. She's trying her best to be patient, but she can feel the weight of Jemma's hips across her own and it's just _agony_ waiting to be touched like this, when she wants Jemma this much. 

Jemma brushes feather-light touches across Skye's shoulders, her breasts. Her hands are tentative at first, making her shiver, but they grow surer with every touch. She leans in, pressing a kiss to Skye's breast, then her nipple. It's electric, _amazing_ , and Skye arches up into her mouth with a whimper. Jemma sort of growls against her breast, grinds down into Skye's hips, and god, _god_ , she can hardly stand it. She just wants, she wants so much. Dimly, she hears a mewling noise, _please mmm please_ , and it takes her a moment before she realizes it's coming from herself. 

Skye is the one who unbuttons her own jeans. She tries to wriggle her hips, to get out of them while Jemma keeps touching her, but she can't quite with Jemma on top of her. For a minute, she feels frustrated. But then Jemma's hand is between her legs, fingertips finding their way into her underwear to where she's slippery and hot. This time, when Skye grinds down, there's something to grind _against_ , and her eyes flutter shut at the feeling. It's amazing, and she should probably be embarrassed at how eager she is but it's been _forever_ since she's done this and she likes Jemma so much, she can't help herself. She barely needs any touching at all before she's crying out, bucking against Jemma's hand as she comes. 

Jemma keeps kissing her while she shudders, riding out every last second. Her free hand is up at Skye's temple, stroking her hair, her chin, her waist. She keeps whispering _beautiful, beautiful_ against Skye's chest, voice soft and kind. She's patient with Skye while she comes down, gives her time to catch her breath. 

Skye feels like maybe she could stay like this forever, blissed out and a little sleepy, with Jemma wrapped around her. Slowly, she opens her eyes. Jemma is watching her, expression patient even though she clearly wants more. "Hey," Jemma whispers, gently. 

Skye is struck, all over again, with just how much she likes her. "Hey," she says back. Her voice comes out sounding rough, like she's been shouting. 

Jemma takes her hand out of Skye's pants and rests it on her hip, leaving warm, wet fingerprints against her skin. She leans up to press a different sort of kiss to Skye's mouth, reassuring instead of hungry. "How are you?" she asks. Her voice is so caring, so kind.

"I'm good," she says. "Like, really good." 

Jemma's smile is a little bit proud, like she just aced a test but doesn't want to seem too smug about it. It's that, plus the way her hair is all mussed from Skye's hands in it, plus the look in her eyes as she watches Skye, patient but needy. It just makes Skye want to touch her, everywhere. She wants to know what Jemma sounds like when she comes. 

She brings her hands up to Jemma's shoulders and pushes her back, until she's sitting on her heels and Skye has room to sit up, herself. She reaches for Jemma's hem, pulling her sweater and shirt off and over her head all at once. She unhooks her bra, and then the two of them are pressed together, Jemma's bare breasts against her own as Skye pulls her in for a kiss. She tangles one hand in Jemma's hair, _pulls_ , and she doesn't miss the way that Jemma hisses and bucks down against her when she does. She kisses her way down Jemma's throat, nips at her mouth, her collarbones, trying to find all of the different ways she can make Jemma do that again. 

By the time she makes it to Jemma's breasts, she's whimpering, pawing at Skye's back like she's just as eager as Skye was, a moment ago. Skye tries to unbutton her pants, but there's not enough room between their hips and she doesn't want to stop kissing her. It ends up as clumsy fumbling, almost at Jemma's cunt but not quite, and that just makes her whimper louder, arch her back. "Hey," she murmurs against Jemma's mouth. "Take off your pants?"

Jemma bites down on Skye's lip, like maybe getting bossed around is working for her. She grinds her hips down one last time, then eases off of Skye, standing up to shimmy out of her jeans and her underwear. Skye takes the opportunity to do the same from her spot on the bed, wriggling out of her clothes and tossing them onto the floor. And then Jemma is standing at the edge of her bed, eyes eager. She's so, so pretty, like this, Skye can hardly believe it. She takes a moment just to look, trying to memorize the shape of her breasts, the soft lines of her hips, the sight of her cunt. "Whenever you're finished," Jemma says, teasing. 

Skye feels herself blush. But, whatever, it's worth it. She puts her hand out, and Jemma takes it, coming back to join her on the bed. 

This time, it's Skye's turn to ease her onto her back. She lays down next to her. Jemma rubs along the length of her body like a cat, eager to be touched. Skye leans over to press kisses to Jemma's temple, her cheek, her jaw. She's trying to take this slow, but Jemma's already blissed out and arching up, sighing every time Skye touches her. She reaches down, touching the hair between Jemma's legs and then feeling her, so hot, so wet, it makes Skye want her all over again. Jemma's hips rise to meet her hand, and she shudders out, " _Oh_." 

Skye slides her fingers down, finding Jemma's slit and pressing in, filling her up. That works for Jemma, too, and it's not long before Skye's added a second finger, a third, in and out while Jemma moans. She stretches her thumb up to Jemma's clit. She barely touches her, but that's enough to make her arch up, cry out. The room is a steady stream of _yesyesyes_ and the sound of Jemma's breathing, harsh against Skye's cheek. She's beautiful like this. Skye likes everything about it - the way she whimpers as Skye moves her fingers faster, the way she clutches at Skye's back and pulls her tight. She moans against Skye's shoulder, mouth pressed against skin like she's trying not to be too loud. It's not long before she's gasping, arching back and staying there, mouth wide as she tenses around Skye's fingers, coming. 

Skye thrusts until she's sure Jemma's done, until she's back down on the bed and she looks calmer. She takes her hand back and rearranges herself, so that the sheets are sort of on top of them and her head's on the pillow. Jemma hums her approval, resting her head on Skye's chest and snuggling into her, drowsily. It's adorable. 

Skye strokes Jemma's hair, mouth pressed to the top of her head. She stays awake until she's sure that Jemma's breathing has slowed into the even rhythm of sleep, that she's safe. After that, she lets her eyes close.


	3. Chapter 3

Skye wakes up to the sound of her alarm, chirping at her from the middle of the floor. Jemma is still on top of her, groaning drowsily at the noise. She feels like she's only slept a couple of hours, and it takes her a moment before she remembers - last night, Jemma, and everything that came after. But she didn't think to turn off her alarm, and now it's going off for quarter to five like it always does, tucked into her jeans pocket on the floor. 

Jemma mumbles, something along the lines of _whatisit_ slurred through her half-awake mouth. 

"Hey," Skye says, nudging her shoulder. "I need to get to my phone. It's my alarm."

Jemma nods, rolls over. She pushes herself into a half-sit, rubbing her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Quarter to five," Skye says, crawling overtop of Jemma to get to her jeans. She makes it to them with an awkward half-hop over Jemma's legs, and fishes around until she finds the alarm shutoff button. "I usually meet up with May around now to work on combat training."

"Oh," Jemma says, still blinking away sleep. She looks about as exhausted as Skye feels. "Alright, then." 

She starts to sit up more, like she's going to get out of bed, herself. "You can stay here," Skye says. "If you want to keep sleeping."

That earns her a half-tired smile. "Yeah?"

"Of course. I'll be back in a couple hours." 

Jemma nods, already rolling over and cocooning herself in the covers. Skye gets her things. She's running late - her usual alarm gives her just enough time to change and stumble down to the gym. But before she leaves, she lets herself take one last look at Jemma. She's already asleep, cuddled into the very centre of the bed, and the sight of her makes Skye's heart do a flip. 

 

*

 

Skye spends her day the way she always does - training, then back at her laptop, working next to Jemma's desk. It's the same, but it's also completely different. She just - it's been a while since she had a chance to feel like this, all wrapped up in someone new. Even though Jemma isn't _new_ , they've been living on the same airplane for almost a year, the newness of whatever's happening between them is pretty amazing. Skye feels totally normal one second, and then she'll look over and catch a glimpse of Jemma's hand and her brain is right back to last night, thinking of the way those fingertips felt against her skin.

It's distracting, and she's pretty sure Jemma is there too, from the way she'll sometimes look over at Skye and flush bright pink. 

They make it through most of the day like things are normal, like Skye didn't have the best sex she's ever had with a girl the night before, like she doesn't want to just be touching her, all the time. (Although maybe Skye pulls Jemma into the corner by the lab supply closet, the one that the cameras can't quite see, and they make out just a little bit. But that hardly counts.)

She swings by the lab later that night, and Jemma's there waiting for her. She's smiling, and it's Skye's favourite kind. The one that says, _I'd really like you to take me home with you._

Skye offers Jemma her arm, ready to oblige.

 

Their path takes them past the rec room, and that's where things start to go off course. Skye can hear music, Cary Grant's voice drifting through the open doorway. She figures it's just Coulson and Trip. They've been bonding over their shared 1940s fetish since the assault on Cybertek, but since they discovered the old movies up on the base's Netflix, they've taken it to the next level. Trip is the one who spots them as they walk by. "Hey, ladies," he says, smiling mostly at Simmons. "Care to join us?"

He and Coulson are sitting together on the couch closest to the wall, matching expectant looks on their faces. Coulson leans forward to pause the movie, waiting for an answer. 

It's not like Skye can say they have plans (although they _do_ , and they involve Skye's bed, and she wants to keep them), and she hasn't had a lot of time with A.C. since he got back. She does miss him. She looks at Jemma, who glances at Skye's eyes, then her mouth, before sighing. She answers for the both of them, a little too brightly, "Of course." 

Skye sits on the empty couch, on the end closest to Coulson. Jemma joins her, but not before circling around to the shelf next to the television to get a blanket. It's one of the thin ones, not quite standard-issue for sleeping, but when Jemma drapes it over her own knees and Skye's, together, it feels cozy enough. Besides. If she doesn't get to touch Jemma the way she wants to, at least this way, she'll get to be close to her. 

Skye stares at the screen, letting the movie dialogue wash over her. It's all black-and-white, and she has to really listen to follow the pace of it, but it's not bad. 

Mostly, the best part is all the little looks she steals in Jemma's direction, watching her watch the movie. It makes her think of the last time they watched TV together in here - everything similar but so, so different. For starters, she's seen Jemma naked, so whenever Jemma bites her lip at the tense parts, Skye's thoughts go right to the place they were in last night. 

But it's also more comfortable, and Skye feels like she knows what to do a little more. Like, when Jemma curls against the arm of the couch and lets her toes rest against Skye's thigh, she knows that it's okay to flex her leg a little bit, bumping against her toes. 

About an hour in, Jemma's arm moves under the blanket, so that her hand is resting casually on her thigh, in the space between them. Skye notices. Right at the part where Cary Grant's ex falls in love with him all over again, she reaches over and laces her fingers through Jemma's. Their hands are hidden under the blanket, but it still feels like a big deal, like everyone else will know that Skye's turning into the kind of person who wants to hold Jemma's hand. But then Jemma squeezes her hand tight, and it feels like that's not a bad thing at all. 

By the time the movie is over, it's way late, and Skye's pretty sleepy. She and Jemma say their goodnights to Coulson and Trip slowly, and Skye doesn't miss Jemma's little yawns as she folds up the blanket, makes sure all of the couch cushions are where they're supposed to be. It takes a fair bit of dragging their heels before Coulson and Trip go to bed without them, leaving Skye alone with Jemma. 

"So I'm pretty well -"

"-exhausted," Jemma says. "Me too." 

"Can I walk you to your bunk?"

Jemma smiles wide, clearly pleased at the prospect. "Alright," she says, voice curling around the word like she thinks Skye is really, really cool. 

When Jemma looks at her like that, Skye feels like she is. 

 

They walk to Jemma's bunk hand in hand, slowly. Skye's eyes are getting pretty heavy, and from the way Jemma keeps trying to hide her yawning, it looks like Jemma's in pretty much the same state. They stop outside the door to Jemma's room, suddenly uncertain again. 

"Here we are," Skye says. 

"We are." Jemma's voice is a little nervous. "You know, I've never actually slept here."

"Yeah?"

She shrugs, looks away. "The lab always seemed easier."

"If you want, I can help you break it in? To sleep." Jemma raises an eyebrow, and Skye laughs. "I'm being serious. Stop."

Jemma's expression softens. She reaches for Skye's hand. "I'd really like that, actually. If it's not too much trouble."

Skye shakes her head. "It's not."

The inside of Jemma's room is - well, basically exactly the same as the inside of Skye's, but totally pristine and SHIELD issue. There's no personal anything, really - no papers on the night table, no charging cables by the dresser, nothing. If it weren't for Jemma's clothes in the closet, Skye would think this was one of the empty bunks. 

Jemma starts to get changed into her pyjamas, some sort of silky shorts and a matching tank top. She would be the type to stay colour coordinated, even asleep. She's clearly tired enough to be working on autopilot, because she suddenly catches herself right in the middle of changing and stops. She looks at Skye, shorts half-on, and realizes what she's doing. She sighs at herself, exasperated. "Oh, Skye. I'm sorry. Did you want something to -?"

Skye shakes her head. "I'll be fine with underwear," she says. 

By the time she's done stripping down to her bra and panties, Simmons is changed and ready for bed. But instead of getting in, she stands at the edge of the bed, looking hesitant. 

Skye is the one who climbs in first, settling under the sheets on her side, back to the wall. Once she's there, Jemma hits the lights and settles in beside her. She turns so that they're nose to nose, eyes wide in the dark. Gently, she reaches up to run her hand through Skye's hair, smoothing it and tucking it behind her ear. She presses a kiss to Skye's mouth, soft and chaste. "Good night, Skye," she says, before settling down on the pillow. 

Skye presses a kiss to the top of Jemma's head in return. She breathes deep, taking in the smell of her hair, letting herself enjoy the way Jemma feels when Skye is wrapped around her like this. "Good night," she murmurs against Jemma's head. 

 

*

 

The next morning, Skye gets up to her alarm to train with May. She's started setting it a few minutes earlier. It gives her just enough extra time to stroke Jemma's hair, remind her that she can keep sleeping. It also gives her enough time to spend an extra minute in bed, enjoying the feel of Jemma in her arms. She forgot how nice it was, waking up with someone else in the morning. 

As she slips out of Jemma's room, there's a flicker of movement from down the hallway, just at the edge of her vision. Her stomach sinks. There's only one other person awake at this time of day, and May isn't exactly the forgiving, indulgent type. 

She pads back to her own room to change, trying to breathe and steel herself for what she's sure is going to be the lecture of a lifetime. 

But to her total surprise, May is her usual self during their morning workout. She's always quiet, and she's no more or less quiet than usual. They run the track together in silence, and when it comes time to do combat drills, May uses the same patient, even tone with Skye that she always does. By the time they've finished, Skye's almost got herself convinced that she was just imagining things. That nobody was in the hallway to see her leaving Jemma's room, and definitely not May. 

"So," May says, just as they're wrapping up. She's still finishing her workout, kicking the bag at exactly the same height as Ward's diaphragm, hard enough to knock the wind out of him over and over again. "You and Simmons have been spending a lot of time together."

Skye shrugs, unwrapping her hands. "Yeah, well, someone has to give her a hand with all the science stuff while Fitz is -" she hesitates for a moment, trying to find the right word. "Getting better."

May pauses for a moment, stepping forward to still the bag. "It's been good for her," she says. Her tone is absent-minded in that way that always makes Skye apprehensive. 

"Thanks," she says, trying to keep her voice steady. 

Then May turns, making a point of looking Skye right in the eyes. "Just be careful."

Skye suddenly feels sick. Of course May knows. She knows _everything_. The glib retort Skye would have made months ago, defensively ( _thanks, Mom_ ) is right on the edge of her tongue. She bites it back.

May continues. "I can't tell you it's against regulations anymore, so I won't. But you've both been through a lot. Make sure you're making decisions that are good for both of you."

Skye nods. She's been thinking about that - she's _always_ been thinking about that, about making sure that no matter what happens, Jemma is okay. "I know," she says. She's surprised at how serious her own voice sounds. But then, she is. Serious about Jemma, and about SHIELD, and about whatever they all are now, and she's terrified, constantly, of how much she doesn't want this to fall apart. "Thank you."

She is still sort of waiting for the other shoe to drop - that was almost an entire supportive conversation, no work, no _here's what else you need to get done, figure it out_. It's weird, but she'll take it. 

"Anyway, I'm gonna - go clean up," she says, hoping the discussion will end there. 

May nods. She gets about four steps away before May calls her back. "Oh, and Skye?" she says. "If you two are going to keep seeing each other, I'd tell Coulson sooner, rather than later. I'm not doing it for you." 

Skye's stomach sinks. She knows May's not wrong - that's what the old protocol manuals said: _When appropriate, romantic relationships between agents must be disclosed to the assigned supervising officer in a timely fashion_. But it's also lots of other steps that Skye's not sure she knows how to do. Like talking to Jemma to figure out if they count as a _romantic relationship_. And looking Coulson in the eye and explaining to him that she and his best scientist are sleeping together. She doesn't say anything back to May. 

Instead, she heads for the showers and does her best not to think about it. 

 

*

Coulson finds them in the lab, a couple of days later. He doesn't _find_ them, find them - which is good, because Skye definitely hasn't gotten around to figuring out how she's going to tell him about them. When he walks in, Jemma is running a bunch of tests on Garrett's samples using something called _electrophoresis_ , and Skye is watching her from the next desk over, memorizing the curve of her backside as she bends over to load her samples into the apparatus. Coulson walks in to join them, no knock. It's something he always does, but today it feels a little like he's interrupted something private. 

She flicks her gaze back to her laptop, and tries to remember what she was working on before Jemma leaned over the lab bench. 

"Afternoon, ladies. What are you all up to?"

"Still working on indexing all the old personnel files. I'm getting there, but it's going to be a little while." 

Coulson nods, pleased. The job he gave her was huge - going through every SHIELD employee file and cross-referencing with known Hydra agents - and even though she's a little distracted, the work is getting done pretty quickly. Because she's _awesome_. 

"Simmons, how about you?"

Jemma's still bent over the lab bench, working with her samples. She's running thirty different samples in order on a huge gel plate, and she's clearly halfway through. She frowns, not wanting to disappoint Coulson but clearly not wanting to stop and risk losing track. "Mmm," she says. "Skye can tell you."

Coulson turns back to Skye, hands in his pockets. His smile is a little bemused, and Skye can't tell if that's at her or at Jemma. "Skye?"

Skye swallows. She feels confident enough about following Jemma's train of thought when she talks about this stuff, but she's never had to actually explain it before. "Well, we're - _Simmons_ is working on those autopsy samples from the dead Centipede guys and Garrett. She's trying to figure out why some of them reacted differently to all the different things in the Centipede serum, because it might be related to the guys themselves, not the serum. So she's running some tests using -" she frowns, trying to remember the word. "Electrophoretic -" 

"- genetic markers," Jemma finishes, standing up from her table. "It works very well in modelling done on fish." 

Coulson's eyes flick from Skye, to Jemma, to Skye again. Skye gets a sinking feeling, like maybe what's happening between them isn't as secret as she thought. "I see. Skye, I wanted to grab you for an errand I'm running up in New York."

_Errand_ sounds an awful lot like _mission_ , the way he says it. Skye perks up. "Yeah? What's up?"

"Have you ever heard of a SHIELD agent named Sharon Carter?" 

Skye shakes her head. "I think I saw her name in some of my personnel searches. Should I know her?"

"Maybe not, but you will. She was a big part of the ground-level Hydra resistance during the incident at the Triskelion."

"You mean the 'incident' where Captain America blew up three helicarriers?"

"That would be the one," Coulson says, smiling just a little. "Officially, she's joined the CIA. Unofficially, she's also been working to clean up Hydra under the alias Agent 13. She's agreed to discuss the possibility of regrouping with SHIELD."

"Okay." 

"Agent Triplett and I will conduct the meet, but I need you to come with us to run back end."

Skye's mostly focusing on Coulson, thinking ahead to what _back end_ means and all of the variables she's going to be in charge of by herself, with no Fitz and no team. But she doesn't miss the way that Jemma's jaw tenses at the words _come with us_ , the way she suddenly gets very interested in cleaning out the test tubes she's brought over to the sink. 

"Sure." Skye says. It'll be a good trial run for the new secure comms network, and her first time running the back end with networking that she's built herself, no SHIELD backup if things go wrong. It's a bit nerve-wracking, but it's not like they've never run ops like this before. 

Coulson nods, and like that, things move forward. "The meet is in New York. We'll take the jump jet, get the lay of the land, then make a plan to engage."

"When do we leave?"

"Three hours. Agent 13 wants to do this tonight."

Skye follows him out, grilling Coulson about tactical issues, what kind of backup they're going to need, what kind of setup she should expect. There's a lot to do, and three hours is hardly any time at all.

 

She heads to the supply area first, to gear up. She needs her laptop, cables, something to boost wifi in case she ends up working out of a coffee shop. She packs a weapon, too - an ICER, small enough to fit in her jacket pocket but big enough to carry the Centipede-downing rounds - just in case things don't go to plan. 

It's a lot of responsibility, _fast_ , and she half-forgets about Jemma until Jemma finds her in her bunk, a half hour before takeoff. 

She's running through a final mental inventory, making sure everything she needs is packed and easy to access, when there's a knock on her door. Skye opens it expecting Trip, telling her she needs to get going. But instead it's Jemma, clearly stressed but trying to stay calm, fidgeting with her hands. She comes in before Skye can invite her to and takes a seat on the bed, tucked against the wall. Out of Skye's way, but still close. 

"How's the preparation coming along?" she asks. 

"Not bad," Skye says, double-checking the spare cables she wants to bring along. "I just want to go over things one last time. I haven't used the new networks in the field before." 

"Oh," Jemma says, and her tone would sound casual if it weren't for the fact that her voice jumps a full octave. It takes Skye a minute, but then it hits her. Jemma's nervous because of her. She's never had someone to worry about her like that, before. 

Skye turns to face her. "You okay?"

"Of course," Jemma says, too brightly. Then, "You will be careful, won't you."

_Oh_. Skye feels like an idiot for not realizing sooner. Obviously, Jemma would be worried; the last time any of them were in the field, Fitz and Jemma nearly died. She moves to the bed and sits in the space next to Jemma, close enough that they're knee to knee. "Hey," she says, reaching for Jemma's hand. "Absolutely. I'll be the carefullest field agent ever." 

Jemma rolls her eyes, manages a smile. "The English language is cringing right now." 

Skye just pulls her close for a kiss. She means for it to be tender and comforting, and it starts off that way. But then Jemma's mouth tastes so good, and her fingers tangle in Skye's hair and drag along her scalp just so, and she gets a little carried away. They pull apart minutes later, gasping.

"I mean it," Jemma whispers, bright-eyed as she pulls back to meet Skye's gaze. "No more bullet holes." Skye smiles. She tries to lean forward for another kiss, but Jemma keeps going. "Or getting poisoned. Or knocked unconscious. And watch out for raccoons, they're the leading vector for rabies in the northeastern United States."

Skye presses her forehead to Jemma's. She brings one hand up to the back of her neck, cradling the back of her head. "I'll come back in one piece," she whispers. "Trip and Coulson have my back, okay?"

Jemma nods, looking somewhat mollified. "Okay."

They're interrupted by the thud of Trip banging on the wall outside her bunk, "Skye, you almost ready? Wheels go up in ten, we need you with us." 

Skye sighs. She is ready, at least in the sense of having everything she needs to back up the team. But she wants five of those ten minutes to say goodbye to Jemma, knows she only has one. "Be right out," she calls through the door. Then, more softly, "I have to -"

"- go. I know."

"Hey," Skye says. She wants to be reassuring, wants to show Jemma that she's going to come back safely, she _is_. Without thinking, she pulls Jemma into another kiss. "I'll see you soon." 

Jemma nods. Skye takes thirty more seconds to memorize the look on her face, the way she looks, down to the little polka-dot buttons on her shirt. Then she's getting her bags, out the door. She's got somewhere to be. 

 

*

 

The meet is rocky, but they get it done. Running back end turns out to be Skye with a bulletproof vest under her clothes, setting up command with her laptop at a Starbucks. They're set to meet Agent 13 in a deli across the street; Skye's job is to tap into the security camera feeds and keep eyes on their positions. It goes alright. 

Well. 

It goes well, in that they meet with Agent 13 and she doesn't turn out to be a Hydra agent, and agrees to stay in touch. It goes less well because she's being followed, by two guys with guns and excellent face-kicking technique. She and Trip handle it, and Skye backs them up through comms. Maybe there's a tense moment, after a stray shot hits the front window of the Starbucks and she has to take cover under a table, but nobody gets hit, and they all get to go home. 

Piece of cake. 

They head back in the jet, after. It's not a long flight - they've been gone for twelve hours, maybe - but by the time they land, all Skye wants to do is see Jemma. Right off the plane, straight to the lab, just to be around her again. It's not that she's been gone that long, but she was briefly in a bit of danger, and she hasn't been away since they started - whatever this is. She doesn't know when Jemma became a person that Skye misses, but she is. 

She walks down the ramp with Coulson and Trip together, and to Skye's surprise, Jemma and May and Billy are all waiting for them. May looks expectant, clearly for news. Jemma's looking right at Skye, like she's the most important thing in the world. Something in Skye's chest flutters. 

"How was the mission?" Jemma asks. 

She's not asking Trip or Coulson, but it's Coulson who answers first. "Not bad. A little more eventful than I would have liked, but we got what we came for."

Jemmas eyebrows lift at the word _eventful_. Skye shrugs, tries to be reassuring. "We ran into a couple of guests, probably Hydra. We think they were following Agent 13. She and Trip got the best of them, though." 

She feels twitchy, restless. Jemma is three feet away from her, but it's not close enough at all. Skye wants to pull her into a hug, to breathe in the smell of shampoo and skin at the nape of her neck and hold on tight. But everyone else is there, and she's not sure if she can hug Jemma without being obvious, anymore. About them. 

"And Agent 13?" May says. She's giving Skye a look as she speaks, the one Skye's pretty sure says something like _knock it off, people know you're dating in space_ (or maybe it's closer to _you really should tell Coulson_ ). 

"Safe. And on board with collaborating with our team. She'll be awaiting further contact in D.C."

"Good."

"Do you need a hand with that, Skye?" Jemma says, motioning to her backpack. She doesn't, but she does need help disassembling the mobile tech setup she has back in the jet. Even if she didn't, though, she needs Jemma to be alone with her so that she can touch her. 

"Um, there's some stuff I still need to take apart back in the jet, if you want to -"

She doesn't need to finish her sentence. Jemma nods, and follows. 

Skye knows they don't have a ton of time alone - all of Trip's things are still stashed in the cockpit, and Coulson will want to debrief with the whole team, soon. But she thinks about getting a chance to give Jemma that hug, and how that might be good enough for now. 

It's Jemma who starts things. The moment she's sure they're out of sight, she's got her arm around Skye's waist and she's pressing her against a wall panel. Her mouth is sure, insistent, and she kisses Skye until her heart is racing and she's breathless. 

It's a long moment before Jemma pulls away, eyes dark. "I told you I'd be fine," Skye says. She's trying to make a joke, but her voice comes out throaty and rough, betraying her. 

"I'm glad you are," she says, but it comes out sounding like a lot more than that. 

They separate, just barely. Skye thinks about pulling her close again, kissing her more thoroughly, but then Trip is clomping up the ramp to help unpack. They take care of everything that needs to get done onboard, while Coulson and May discuss things, presumably their next move. 

They go through the mission as a team, the six of them. Billy cooks, they sit around the table. She points out how Trip's combat skills are amazing; he points out the way she totally kept things under control when the coffee shop got caught in the crossfire. It's kind of nice. It almost reminds her of the way things were, before everything went to hell. 

(Except for the Fitz-shaped hole at the table, the way the room feels too quiet without him going back-and-forth with Jemma over their latest experiment. Everything's normal except for that.)

 

After a while, everyone starts to drift away. Billy insists on doing the dishes, everyone else moves on to the rec room or their own work, until it's just Jemma and Skye. Skye gets up, leans against the table next to where Jemma's sitting. Jemma smiles. She smiles back, wide and too earnest. Somehow, she doesn't care. "So what did you get up to while I was away? Anything exciting?"

Jemma shakes her head, pulls Skye by the arm and sort of into her lap, so that she's sitting on top of Jemma and just being _kissed_ , her arms around Skye's back. It makes her heart race, her skin heat, and oh man as if they were going to do anything else tonight, anyway. There's Jemma's nails dragging along her nape, and then the warm slide of Jemma's tongue against her own, making her ache for this, for her.

When Jemma tears her mouth away, gasping for air, all Skye can think to say is, "Wow."

"Bed?" Jemma half-asks, half-orders, breathless. 

"Bed."

Jemma's bunk is closest, and they just barely make it there. Jemma fumbles with her lanyard just outside the door, trying to swipe it against the access pad, but Skye is kissing the back of her neck and she keeps fumbling, hands shaky. She tries, once, twice, and on the third the latch clicks open, letting them through. 

The moment the door closes, Jemma presses her up against it, her mouth hot against Skye's neck. She trails tiny kisses all the way down from her ear to her collarbone, nipping occasionally, and Skye feels every touch right between her legs. She's so hot for this already, from Jemma's mouth and how much she needs her, and _god_ she can hardly stand it. She wants to be in bed, wants to straddle Jemma's hips and grind down on top of her. She tries to turn the tables a little, moving to press Jemma against the opposite wall. But as she moves, Jemma makes this noise low in her throat - this _growl_ , way hotter than it should be - and shakes her head, _no_.

Skye doesn't know what she thought Jemma would be like in bed, but somehow she hadn't expected this. 

She nods, leaning back as Jemma runs her hands up Skye's waist, under her shirt and along her ribs. Her thumbs hook into the hem of Skye's t-shirt, lifting it up and off. She unhooks Skye's bra and slides the straps off of her shoulders, letting it fall as well. Skye's expecting Jemma to keep touching her, but instead she steps back and just stares. 

She's got this dreamy, appreciative look on her face, pupils blown wide. "Your breasts really are gorgeous, " she murmurs. "I meant to tell you that earlier."

Then Jemma moves close and Skye is pinned again. Jemma's hands feel like they're everywhere, touching her arms, then her ribs, her breasts. She traces the shape of Skye's spine, then drags her nails along the muscles of Skye's back. It's all Skye can do to stay upright and sigh. She can feel every touch right between her legs, throbbing warm and wet. Jemma unbuttons Skye's jeans, hands insistent, eager. She tugs at her fly, hard, pulling the zipper down with hands that know what they want. Skye can't believe how hot she is for this, that she's already arching up and practically begging for Jemma to touch her. 

Jemma's hand finds the waistband of her underwear and she slides her hand inside, cupping her sex. Her touch is so close, almost exactly where Skye wants it. She grinds down, trying for more contact. One of Jemma's fingers slowly curls, angling towards Skye's clit and pressing down, feather-light. She moans, louder than she meant to. 

Jemma uses her free hand to press Skye's head against her shoulder, like a hint. She gets it. 

She slides two fingers along the length of Skye's slit, making Skye shudder into her hand. It's so much, so close, and then she slips those fingers inside and Skye cries out again, trying her best to bury the sound in the crook of Jemma's neck. She slides out again, thrusts, starting to set a rhythm. Skye brings one leg up to Jemma's waist, giving her better access. It's electric, amazing, every touch bringing her closer to the edge. Jemma's fingers move deeper, until they're pressing _just right_ inside her, until it's all Skye can do to press her mouth against the curve of Jemma's collarbone and hold on. 

She's trying to be quiet, she is, but she's so far gone and everything feels so good and before she can really get a handle on things she's tumbling over the edge, crying out. 

Things are blank, just for a moment. Then she's back, coming down, setting both feet on the floor. She's still rocking against Jemma's hand, every so often shuddering with aftershocks, but she's able to press a kiss to Jemma's collarbone, her shoulder, her throat. 

Jemma bends her head, trying to kiss Skye, but the angle doesn't quite work and they both look up, face to face. Jemma's short enough that like this, her nose is level with Skye's mouth. She presses a messy kiss against it, not thinking. 

Jemma giggles, swipes at her nose with the hand that isn't in Skye's pants. "You're alright," she whispers, like she finally believes it. "You are."

"I am," Skye whispers. She ducks her head to look at Jemma properly, trying to show her how much she means it. "I'm safe."

Jemma wraps both of her hands around Skye's back, holds her tight. "Okay." 

Skye hugs back, holding Jemma as close as she can. They stay like that for a long moment, quiet and still. Then Jemma looks up, pulls away just far enough to kiss Skye again. She's tender at first, mouth slow and gentle against Skye's, making her melt. Then, slowly, her kisses start to change. Her mouth gets harder, the contact longer. She starts to sigh as she pulls away, panting just a bit. It makes Skye want her all over again. Makes her want to show Jemma how important she is, right this minute. 

She pushes back, and this time Jemma lets her stand up, lets her walk them both towards the bed. Jemma hits it first, the backs of her calves against the mattress, and they end up half-tumbling down, Skye on top. She strokes Jemma's forehead, brushing mussed hair back and away from her face. "You alright?"

Jemma smiles. It reaches her eyes, she means it. "Yes." 

Skye starts to undress her, as slowly as she can manage. She eases her sweater up, exposing the skin of her abdomen, her ribs. She splays her hand across her belly, letting herself feel the way that Jemma's muscles tense, relax, as Jemma sighs into her mouth. She walks her fingers higher, across her sternum, slowly enough that she raises goosebumps. When she reaches the edge of Jemma's bra, she shivers, whispers, _please._

She hikes her shirt higher, exposing her bra, the tops of her breasts. Her bra is surprisingly lacy, pink paisley and mesh that Skye could stare at forever. She hums appreciation, tracing the shape of the lace pattern across her breasts, as something occurs to her. "Is this for me?" she whispers. 

Jemma nods, hisses, "Yes."

Skye flicks the catch, loosening things so that she can slide her hand inside and cup Jemma's breast. "It's really pretty." 

She brings her head down, presses her mouth to fabric, then skin. She takes one nipple into her mouth and sucks, flicks with her tongue until Jemma arches forward, paws gently at Skye's head. She switches sides, dragging her mouth across every inch of skin. She moves lower, tracing a path toward the waistband of Jemma's jeans. Jemma is more than eager, whimpering at every touch. Skye doesn't think she's ever going to be sick of hearing that sound. 

She undoes the button of Jemma's jeans, tugs the zipper down to reveal matching panties. She never really thought of herself as the lingerie type, but on Jemma, it's really hot. "So pretty," she whispers, pulling to tug Jemma's pants down her hips. Jemma lifts her hips, helping to kick them off. Her underwear go soon after that, and then she's half-naked, rumpled, all but begging for Skye to touch her. It's pretty amazing. 

She leans down and kisses her hip, then maps a path down to her groin. She kisses her cunt, just once, but the contact is enough to make Jemma arch off the bed, sighing. Skye licks into her, running the flat of her tongue along the length of her cunt. Jemma squirms against it, one hand finding Skye's hair and the other fisting in the sheets. She works her tongue harder, tracing shapes across Jemma's clit until she's moaning, wanton. She's grinding against Skye's face, little half-movements of her hips like she's trying to keep still but can't quite. Skye flicks her tongue, over and over, until Jemma goes tense, gasps, shudders against her mouth. 

She kisses a path back up Jemma's body, until she can stroke Jemma's hair, hug her close. 

Jemma cuddles into her, drowsy and afterglowy. 

"You know I'll always come back, right? Every time I go into the field." She wants to mean it, even as she knows that one day, that won't be true. 

Jemma looks up, nodding like she knows that too. "Thank you," she says, draping one arm across Skye's middle. 

She's already half-asleep, enough that she seems content to doze against Skye as she is, shirt half-off, mostly naked. It's not long before Skye joins her. 

 

*

 

Skye wakes up in a strange room with a start. There's an alarm going off. 

It's a moment before the night before comes back to her - coming home, Jemma, bed. She's in Jemma's bunk, and they fell asleep, and the alarm sounds like it's Jemma's ringtone. Skye's exhausted, it feels like she barely slept at all. She rolls over to where Jemma is sitting up, gently muttering British curses under her breath as she looks for her phone. She checks her watch - 2:17. No wonder she's so tired. 

"Hullo?" Jemma answers, voice hoarse with sleep. "Yes, sir."

It sounds like Coulson's voice on the other end of the phone, but Skye can't quite make out what he's saying. He doesn't make phone calls at two in the morning for nothing, though, so Skye sits up herself. She rests her head against Jemma's back, trying to be comforting. Her ear rests against Jemma's chest. As Jemma listens, Skye can hear her heart start to beat faster. "Of course, sir," she says, voice quavering for a moment before she gets it under control. Then, after a while, "I understand, sir." 

She hangs up the phone and stares at it. Even in the darkness, Skye can see her go pale. "Fitz is awake," she says. 

The news hits Skye like a punch in the chest. She forgot, for a moment, to worry about Fitz. About what he'll be like when he wakes up, about the fact that he's in love with Jemma and she might be, too. She takes a deep breath. "You should go see him," she says. "It's going to be okay."

Jemma takes her hand, lacing their fingers together, and Skye feels like it will be.


End file.
